


Tow

by kurokonekokilled



Category: Bleach
Genre: Acceptance, Angst, Coming Out, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Orihime and Ichi go on a date but it doesn't go well what a shocker, don't worry everything's fine, hashtag that's what happens when you're gay, here you go have some pain, it all works out, listen they're all upset and then no one's upset, supportive parents, there's no sex in this what am I doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22531723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurokonekokilled/pseuds/kurokonekokilled
Summary: Modern AU. Ichigo fucks up, feels bad about it, then goes on a date with Orihime to try to feel not as bad about it.Instead, they hit something on the way home and ruin his radiator and have to call a tow truck.Just Ichigo's luck that the driver is exactly what he'd been trying to run away from with this whole charade.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 8
Kudos: 120





	Tow

“He said he’s about fifty minutes out,” Orihime said brightly, shooting Ichigo a slightly too forced smile.

“Thank god,” Ichigo sighed, dropping his forehead onto the steering wheel. “Sorry today was such a disaster.”

Orihime shook her head firmly, Ichigo disappointed, but not surprised, to still see the hearts in her eyes.

He'd felt bad when she finally confessed to him, having just spectacularly ruined his chances of a real relationship with his regular fuck buddy. She'd happened to come by at just the right time, put together just the right words, and Ichigo had just felt like too much of an asshole to say no.

So he’d feigned surprise, said he didn't feel the same about her - which was at least the truth - but that he'd be willing to try a date and see how it went. 

Fucking horrendously, apparently.

“I had a good time,” Orihime said staunchly, smiling up at him in a way that had he been in any way straight he'd have found all too adorable. 

“Listen, Orihime-san,” he started shakily, almost letting out an audible sigh of relief when her ringtone cut him off.

“Sorry,” she whispered, accepting the call, “it's my brother.”

Ichigo tuned it out as the two of them spoke, ignoring the furtive little blushing glances she kept shooting him as she talked to her brother.

“He said he's going to come pick me up, since I have work early tomorrow and tow trucks are never reliable,” Orihime offered tentatively as she hung up, not quite sure what the brooding look on Ichigo’s face meant. “Is that ok?”

Ichigo’s gaze snapped over to look at her, eyes unfocused and hazy for a moment before he blinked the stupor away. 

“Yeah,” he said monotonously, blinking again and clearing his throat. “Yeah, sorry, that's fine. You should get your rest.”

Orihime smiled sadly at him, trailing her eyes over him before settling back in her seat to wait. Her brother was probably only a few minutes away, their car having stopped right on his route home.

They sat in an awkward silence as they waited, both of them staring ahead at the passing traffic, Ichigo's mellower playlist humming softly. He'd figured he should at least not play the metal he liked to listen to, since he knew it wasn't her thing.

“He's here,” Orihime sighed, turning and giving Ichigo one last doe-eyed glance. “I had a good time tonight.”

Ichigo fought not to cringe.

“We shouldn't do this again.”

Ichigo didn't quite manage to stop the look of bewilderment. 

“Huh?” 

“You're not interested in me, are you?” Orihime asked bluntly. “Or girls, really. At all.”

Ichigo swallow. Blinked. Repeated both until he managed to form some strange choked off sound.

“Uh. No? I don't - I don't think so,” he offered lamely, feeling his face heat in shame as he leaned back in his seat with a sigh.

God, he couldn't even do a good enough job to make it past one date.

“I think I was in denial about it, too,” Orihime sighed with a sad smile. “And I know it's hard to tell Isshin, even if you know he'd support you. But I'm glad we did this, because now I can finally get over this crush.”

She leaned over the center console, brushing cherry lips across a stunned Ichigo’s cheek.

“Thank you.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving Ichigo waiting for a tow truck at nearly midnight, trying not to be upset that now apparently no one wanted him.

And yes, he knew he was fairly well attractive, could probably go out to any club and find  _ someone  _ he could go home with, but that's not what he wanted.

Not who he wanted.

He wanted -

“Get out of the car so I can fuckin’ lift it,” a gruff voice half shouted through the window, several sharp knocks sounding.

Ichigo jolted, having been too deep in his thoughts to even notice the truck coming up and stopping in front of him. But the second that he was back in the present, his gut started to sink. He would know that voice anywhere, but Jesus fuck if this wasn't the worst possible timing.

Looking up, his fears were confirmed when he caught a flash of blue, a crazed, half maniacal smile.

His windows were tinted, so Grimmjow probably didn't know who was in the car, especially considering it had been Orihime who called. He stalled for another few seconds before unbuckling his seatbelt and grabbing his wallet and phone, knowing there really wasn't any way to get out of this. 

Fuck.

Why did his car have to pull this shit when he was almost forty minutes from his house? He couldn't handle that long in a car with him. Maybe he could have Grimmjow take just the car and he could call an Uber.

The second he stepped out of the car, his spine was ramrod stiff, eyes trained firmly on the ground as he refused to so much as acknowledge Grimmjow. He had his back to Ichigo for the moment anyway, but the second he turned around, he’d -

“Damn, Berry, missed me this bad?” Grimmjow mocked, filthy grin on his lips. “Thought you said you weren't ever gonna contact me again? I'd have preferred you just text me, but I don't mind getting the work truck a little dirty, too.”

He'd do that.

And god, but Ichigo  _ hated  _ the fact that the idea of Grimmjow having him in that truck made his dick twitch in his jeans. Three full hours of Orihime’s tits in a low cut top brought about nothing, but one single suggestion in that filthy fucking voice had him at half mast.

“I didn't call you,” Ichigo managed, trying to keep his voice steady and not break down like he so desperately wanted to. 

Grimmjow scoffed, but it sounded angrier than usual. Less derisive, more furious.

“Yeah, your  _ date  _ did,” he snarled. “You just gonna leave her in the car?”

Ichigo couldn't help but look up at the venom so clear in Grimmjow's voice, startling again at the icy rage swimming in his eyes. Grimmjow didn't do cold, didn't do calm and collected. He was explosive, volatile. 

And why the hell should he care?

He was the one who’d told Ichigo to back off if he couldn't keep from falling in love with Grimmjow’s dick.

Cocky bastard.

But he had a question to answer, and it probably wasn't a good idea to antagonize the man.

“She already left,” he muttered, still frozen where he stood, eyes dropping back to the cracked pavement at his feet. “Her brother picked her up.”

Grimmjow laughed at that, setting back to work and watching as the platform slid beneath the front bumper. 

“Such a bad conversationalist that you cant even get her to blow you while you wait for a tow?” Grimmjow sneered, something still too vindictive and mean in his words.

“I guess that's what happens when you're gay,” Ichigo snarled back at him, too upset and exhausted to bother trying to be nice at this point.

Grimmjow stopped messing with his control, turning stunned blue eyes to Ichigo, laughing when he was met with a defensively raised brow.

“Didn't think I'd ever hear you admit you were anything other than ‘experimenting,’ Berry,” he muttered, roving his eyes over Ichigo’s body in a way that always used to preclude him absolutely  _ ruining  _ Ichigo. “You even told me you wanted to ‘experiment’ with an emotional relationship. Dipshit.”

Ichigo didn't have the energy to stop himself from crying if he opened his mouth at this point, so he just shrugged, ignoring the ache in his heart.

Grimmjow sighed heavily as he looked Ichigo over once again. 

“Alright, she's up. Get in the cab and we can get going,” Grimmjow huffed, jerking his head towards the pickup.

Ichigo just followed the instructions, pulling the door open and climbing up into the truck that was still as surprisingly clean as it was every other time he'd been in it. He very firmly pushed down all the memories of the times Grimmjow had picked him up in it and teased him until he could barely walk by the time they made it back to Grimmjow’s place. 

He forced himself to just sit and stare ahead and not let himself get hard. 

“Do you need my address?” he asked quietly when Grimmjow climbed in beside him, turning the keys and letting the engine roar to life.

“Nope,” Grimmjow answered, very nearly cheerfully.

Well, Ichigo figured that Grimmjow had been to his house enough times to know where it was without needing to map it. Although it didn't make him feel any better.

“Curl up, buttercup, we've got a bit of a drive,” Grimmjow teased, pressing something soft against Ichigo's arm as he pulled back out onto the road. “Get some sleep, you look exhausted.”

Ichigo startled at the softness of his voice as he instinctively took what he could now tell was a bundled up throw blanket that usually resided on the back of Grimmjow’s couch. He'd used it often enough after Grimmjow had thoroughly wrecked him, sitting on the couch in one of the man’s shirts and sipping at some tea before he had to go back home.

Just one more memory to ignore.

He wrapped himself up in the soft fabric, feeling how strongly sleep was tugging at him, and allowed himself to doze off in his seat.

  
  
  
  


What felt like seconds later, he was jolted awake by a rough, calloused hand slowly threading through his hair. He'd somehow managed to slump over the center console to rest his head on Grimmjow’s shoulder, arm bent awkwardly against the cold plastic.

And for some reason, Grimmjow was petting him instead of pushing him away.

He was too sleepy to really think through all that, and far too sleepy to notice that they'd already passed the street to turn on for his house and were headed back to Grimmjow’s. His eyelids just wouldn't stay open long enough for him to really process any of it.

He dozed on and off for the next ten minutes before startling awake when the truck rolled to a stop. 

Groggily opening his eyes, Ichigo tried to focus on the house in front of him, but the details weren't right. No extended wing of the clinic, no Isshin’s car, no Karin sneaking out to go see Hitsugaya. 

This was… Grimmjow’s house. 

“Why am I here?” Ichigo asked blearily, glancing over at Grimmjow in exhausted confusion.

“Because I'm tired,” came the gruff response, Grimmjow tugging the keys out and grabbing his phone and wallet from the cup holders. “You coming, or are you gonna sleep in the truck?”

Ichigo just blinked at him dumbly, tired brain scrambling to make any sense of it all.

“I thought tow trucks dropped you off at your own house,” Ichigo mumbled, fingers fumbling with his seatbelt regardless.

Grimmjow just shot him a glare, hopping down and rounding the cab before pulling Ichigo’s door open.

“Yeah, well, I'm not charging you, so I'm not required to drop you where you want to go,” he grumbled, reaching in and pulling at Ichigo’s arm until the redhead managed to stumble out of the truck, blanket clutched in his arms.

“You're not charging me?” Ichigo asked, sleep slurring the words on his tongue as Grimmjow herded him towards the door.

“No, I'm not,” Grimmjow answered, slipping the key into the front door and pushing it open before pushing Ichigo through.

“Why aren't you charging me?” Ichigo pressed, turning back to fully face Grimmjow as the man locked his door.

God, he'd forgotten just how  _ good  _ Grimmjow looked in his work clothes. His jeans were torn and oil stained and his jacket was unzipped over a white tank top that did nothing to hide the gorgeous muscles Ichigo knew were under it.

“Because I'm fucking tired,” Grimmjow snapped, turning around and glaring at Ichigo hotly, slowly advancing on him and backing him towards the couch. “Because I'm fucking tired, and I just had to drive an hour for what I thought was going to be a few bucks in my pocket only to find the guy I'm half in love with on a fucking  _ date,  _ and I'm not in the mood to drop you off at your house and pretend everything is fine, and I'm sure as shit not in the mood to take your fucking money.”

By the time he was done, Ichigo’s knees had buckled against the seat of the couch, his body falling awkwardly as he clutched at the familiar blanket, staring up at Grimmjow with his heart hammering so loudly in his chest he was sure the other man could hear it.

“Shut it,” Grimmjow snarled at him when he opened his mouth to stammer out some stilted response. “Fuck. Just… I need to fucking sleep. And so do you. We can talk or whatever in the morning if you're finally done pretending to be something you're not. I'll make sure you're back at the clinic by three to help Isshin out.”

Ichigo couldn't formulate a response, couldn't find the words he wanted to say, but letting Grimmjow turn away felt like the biggest mistake he’d ever make. He was moving before he could even think about it, hand shooting out and grabbing at Grimmjow’s wrist in a desperate attempt to stop him.

His fingers never made contact, Grimmjow having whirled back around, both hands already up and gripping Ichigo’s face tightly as Grimmjow kissed him like he couldn't ever imagine doing anything else, like he needed Ichigo more than air. And Ichigo let him, holding onto the hands at either side of his face in an attempt to keep them from ever releasing him, melting into Grimmjow’s arms just as he melted at his lips.

And then it was all gone, the heat, the pressure, the hard line of Grimmjow’s body against his own, and Ichigo felt like the whole world was spinning with the loss.

“Go to sleep,” Grimmjow murmured, the words trailing off into a frustrated growl as he clenched his fists at his sides, clearly restraining himself from reaching back out.

When he turned towards his bedroom again, it somehow felt even worse. 

Ichigo didn't follow him.

  
  
  
  
  


The morning came much more abruptly than sleep had, Ichigo tossing and turning on the couch, his exhaustion having no chance against the rolling anxiety in his gut, much less the way Grimmjow's words echoed in his head.

He'd not managed to fall asleep until at least three, but here he was, awake just before seven. Because Grimmjow was already awake. 

Or maybe he hadn't slept.

He certainly didn't look like he had.

But there he was, hair mussed from his pillow but still looking the good kind of wild, brows set in his usual scowl. It was the first time Ichigo had seen him in the early morning, soft sunlight making his features less aggressive, tempting Ichigo to run his fingers through wild blue spikes and press lazy kisses along a sharp jawline.

The thought made his stomach clench in fear when he remembered the detached anger in those fiery blue eyes last night.

“I'm not bringing you breakfast. Stop staring and come eat,” Grimmjow huffed at him, voice still flat, not making eye contact as he set one plate down at the bar, settling the other in front of himself on the counter.

So the smell was probably what had woken Ichigo.

For once, he didn't sass Grimmjow, unfolding himself stiffly from the couch and shuffling over to the bar. He lifted himself into the chair and picked up his fork, staring blankly at the eggs and sausage in front of him.

He didn't think he'd be able to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“Eat,” Grimmjow instructed again around a mouthful of scrambled eggs, poking his own fork toward Ichigo’s plate. “We're not talking until you get something in your stomach.”

Ichigo forced himself to scoop up some of the eggs, not tasting them at all as he managed to chew and swallow past the growing nausea. He didn't know what was going to happen, what Grimmjow was going to say, what  _ he  _ was going to say, and he was terrified he'd fuck it all up, just like he had last time.

Because last time, he'd meant to say that he was ready to be real about everything, ready to properly come out to his dad and his sisters. Ready to admit that he had fallen for Grimmjow, and fallen hard. 

But what he'd actually suggested was that he liked experimenting like this with Grimmjow, and that he wanted to experiment some more, maybe with a real date. 

It hadn't gone over well, and Grimmjow had driven him back home with Ichigo cringing at his own words the entire way. 

That had been nearly two weeks ago, and Ichigo hadn't been brave enough to contact him since, several texts drafted and deleted, even a letter written before he'd crumpled it up and tossed it into the corner of his room. 

“So,” Grimmjow said curtly, plucking Ichigo’s plate from in front of him and placing both of them in the sink, regardless of the fact Ichigo hadn't finished half of it. 

He was grateful Grimmjow didn't expect him to.

“You're gay,” Grimmjow continued, holding eye contact with Ichigo until the redhead dropped it.

His heart hammered in his chest as he stared at the granite countertop, slowly nodding his head, glancing shyly up at Grimmjow as he did.

“You're not experimenting, or questioning, you're gay. Right?” Grimmjow pressed.

Ichigo swallowed harshly, trying to push past the nausea roiling in his stomach. He was  _ scared,  _ scared that saying it would make it real, that everyone’s opinion of him would change, that his entire world would change. 

That he wouldn't have anyone left after he said it out loud.

He nodded again.

“I need you to say it, Kurosaki,” Grimmjow grunted, hands fisted atop the counter as he stared at Ichigo, his eyes very nearly pleading rather than demanding for once.

Ichigo opened his mouth. Closed it again. Fought off a terrified sob, gulped in air.

“I'm gay,” he whispered, the words barely loud enough to stir the air between his lips. “I'm gay.”

And nothing happened.

Grimmjow didn't laugh at him, his world didn't shatter into a million pieces, god didn't smite him dead.

He looked up again to find hope in Grimmjow’s eyes now, his own shining with tears as he repeated the words.

“I'm gay.”

Grimmjow sighed in relief, his shoulders dropping from their defensive position as he allowed a tiny smile to flit over his face.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Take out your phone.”

Ichigo hesitated, stomach still roiling nervously, but he took another look at the hopeful smile on Grimmjow’s face and pulled his phone from his pocket, placing it on the counter.

The bracing breath Grimmjow took had all his nerves slamming back into him again.

“I need you to make a decision,” he said quietly, hands fidgeting like he wanted to reach out and grab onto Ichigo. “I'm not going to force you into anything. You need to be ready, it needs to be your choice.” He looked back up, locking his eyes onto Ichigo’s, practically begging the redhead to see the honesty in his own. “But I can't be a secret anymore, Kurosaki. I can't keep sneaking around and hiding from your family and lying to my friends about who you are. So I need you to call your dad, and I need you to either tell him the truth, or tell him to pick you up.”

Ichigo’s hand trembled as he reached for his phone, not giving himself even a second to think about his choice, a second to overthink and throw himself into a panic.

He could panic later.

Right now, his phone was on speaker, soft buzzing echoing through the kitchen as he waited for Isshin to pick up. 

Grimmjow stared at the phone like he was terrified of the mere thought of Isshin answering.

“Ichigo?” Isshin’s voice rang out, worry clear in his tone. “Is everything ok? It's early, did you not make it home last night?”

“I'm sorry,” Ichigo managed, voice cracking on the words. He nearly sobbed in relief when Grimmjow’s fingers hooked over his, squeezing softly. “I hit something on the way home last night and ruined the radiator, we had to call a tow truck.”

That was easier to say than what he called to talk about, so he could squeeze Grimmjow’s hand right now and try to slow his panicked breathing.

“Did you go back to Inoue-kun’s house?” Isshin asked, yawn cutting off the end of his words. “I assume you're ok since I didn't get a call from Karakura General?”

Ichigo swallowed harshly, his heart hammering in his chest as Grimmjow shot him a reassuring nod, squeezing his hand once again.

“I'm fine, Tou-san,” he choked out. “I have to tell you something.”

Isshin was silent for a few moments, puzzlement clear even in the dead air between them.

“Ok?” he drew out slowly. 

Ichigo could hear the sounds of him shifting in bed, probably sitting up, and he forced himself to just blurt it out.

“I'm gay,” he half shouted, anything to get the words  _ out. _

His gaze snapped back to Grimmjow, half wild with terror, eyes misting with tears, and he was nearly overwhelmed when he saw Grimmjow move to round the counter immediately, wrapping his arms almost painfully tightly around Ichigo, holding him close and breathing out an awkward little hitched laugh.

Isshin was worryingly silent, though, his slow breathing the only thing that could be heard through the phone.

“Ichigo, I don't understand,” Isshin started, and Ichigo felt his heart absolutely shatter, hands fisting in Grimmjow’s shirt as the tears started to fall. “You told me a while ago, didn't you? Haven’t you been seeing that man from the mechanic shop for nearly three months now?”

Ichigo choked on his sob as confusion cut through the anguish, a glance at Grimmjow showing that he was just as confused.

“What?” he managed to force out.

It had been closer to six, really, but he'd had to introduce Grimmjow to Isshin as a friend from college when he'd started asking just who Ichigo was spending all his time with.

“With the blue hair,” Isshin continued. “Grimmjow, right?”

“I told you Grimmjow was a friend,” Ichigo choked, voice high and strained as he continued to cling to the man in question. “I was on a date with Orihime-san last night, Tou-san.”

Grimmjow growled low in his throat at that, but Ichigo just pulled him closer, parting his thighs to let the man step between them.

“Please, you’re obviously in love with him,” Isshin stated, and Ichigo could almost  _ see  _ him rolling his eyes, which was the image he focused on rather than the way Grimmjow was practically preening in his arms, nor the blush surely flushing his cheeks. “And why were you on a date with Inoue-kun if you're dating Grimmjow? Or if you know that you're gay? That's not fair to her, Ichigo.”

Ichigo drew in breath to argue, overwhelmed and confused and exhausted, but Grimmjow beat him to it.

“He's been in denial about it since before I met him,” Grimmjow cut in, ignoring Isshin’s faint noise of surprise. “He's been trying to figure things out with me, but we haven't been dating, sir. He only finally admitted he was gay to me about five minutes ago.”

The silence this time was filled with Isshin’s half stifled sigh, the sound of him laying back down.

“Well, I suppose he's the last to know, then,” he yawned. “We've all known since he was about ten, but I'm glad you're finally accepting yourself, Ichigo. I'm proud to call you my son, and I love you.”

Ichigo just stared at the phone in shock, eyes shifting between it and a grinning Grimmjow holding him close.

“I love you too, Tou-san,” Ichigo spluttered, not knowing how the hell else to respond.

So his dad had known? His sisters? Friends? All of them, everyone who he'd been so terrified of losing, had just… known and already accepted him?

“Well, glad that’s cleared up,” Isshin said brightly. “I'll be going back to bed. Have a good day, Ichigo, make sure you and Grimmjow are back by three.”

And with that, the phone went silent in Ichigo’s hand with him still staring at it in absolute shock, Grimmjow holding him close, heartbeat calming beneath Ichigo’s ear. Ichigo just sat there for several moments, mind whirling confusedly, body still caught between terror and relief, hands still gripping at Grimmjow’s shirt.

“That went well,” Grimmjow broke the silence hesitantly, uncharacteristically shy as he looked down at the still off-kilter redhead in his arms.

“Yeah,” Ichigo breathed, almost not believing quite how easy it was. 

Just like that, and the biggest obstacle in his life was behind him. Sure, he'd have to officially come out to everyone else, his school friends and colleagues, eventually, but he was  _ out.  _ His dad knew. For real.

And he was in Grimmjow’s arms.

“Yeah,” he repeated, voice a giddy laugh as he threaded his arms around Grimmjow’s neck. “And he knows about my boyfriend, too.”

The wave of euphoria he was riding on crested and slammed straight back down when he felt Grimmjow stiffen in front of him.

“Boyfriend?” Grimmjow asked, the word carefully weightless.

Ichigo's heart froze in his chest, mouth working uselessly you get words out.

“I - you know - unless -”

“As long as you mean me, and exclusive, and really dating,” Grimmjow cut him off, hands dropping from Ichigo’s back to his waist, “you can call me anything you want.” Pulling Ichigo forward and out of the chair, he leant down and paused just before he brushed their lips together. “Except Daddy.”

Ichigo laughed, bright and happy and carefree, and pulled Grimmjow down into a kiss that neither of the could stop smiling into.

“God, I hate you,” he chuckled, soothing the sting behind the words with another desperately happy kiss. 

“Yeah,” Grimmjow agreed, reaching his hands down and actually yanking Ichigo off his feet, forcing him to wrap long legs around the man’s toned waist. “I love you, too.”

Ichigo gasped against Grimmjow’s mouth, his heart slamming painfully against his ribs once, twice, as grateful, thrilled tears sprung to his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered, cradling Grimmjow’s face like he was something precious and breakable. “I love you, Grimm.”

Grimmjow’s answering smile was bright enough to light the entirety of Karakura, the kiss he pressed to Ichigo’s lips so teeming with pure happiness that it stole Ichigo’s breath.

“I love you, Ichi,” Grimmjow answered him breathlessly. 

Neither of them heard Ichigo’s phone as Grimmjow marched them back to his room, kisses and declarations of love being traded between them as they tumbled down onto the mattress.

  
  


_ Tou-san: Be sure to use protection!!! _

**Author's Note:**

> Listen this is literally just because I went to a fuck buddy's house and we hit something on the way there and had to call a tow and I was horny about it and planned to write porn, but that's not exactly where it went. 
> 
> Got a bunch of shit in the works at the moment, still working on the next two parts of Seireitei Dungeon and a new Hozier is a Sub Bottom piece, a drabble from the Star Wars Sequels, some other random pieces. I'm also working on turning Pocket Change into an actual novel to be published, and I just moved from Maine to Florida, so I've got a bit going on at the moment lmao, but I promise I haven't like actually died.


End file.
